


The Great Pants Catastrophe

by Eggsyobsessed



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Cat thief, Cats are sneaky little fuckers, Crack, Eggsy Unwin & Roxy Morton Friendship, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Missing Underwear, POV Eggsy Unwin, Sebastian Fancast with Richard Madden, Sebwin, hot pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22453309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggsyobsessed/pseuds/Eggsyobsessed
Summary: Eggsy's washer and dryer broke, and now doing his laundry at the neighborhood laundromat. He is now missing his favorite hot pants. Figuring they were accidentally swiped by another local who shares the same laundromat, he's not at all expecting to find a flyer with TEN pairs of his pants on it, and a rather proud looking cat among them.Roxy finds this funny. Eggsy isn't amused. Sebastian thinks Eggsy's pants are sexy.---Sebastian is, as ever, fancast with the lovely Richard Madden.
Relationships: Gary "Eggsy" Unwin/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 55





	The Great Pants Catastrophe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zebraljb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/gifts).



> This fic was inspired entirely by this post, and of course a chat between Anarchycox - who of course supplied the title because she rocks - and I how this would be absolutely hilariously cute. 
> 
> https://eggsyobsessed.tumblr.com/post/190298851122/mercurialkitty-i-would-not-be-surprised-every
> 
> Gifting to Zebraljb, because she needed some sebwin. 
> 
> This is un-beta'd, not even really read over, so excuse errors but just wanted to write and share. 
> 
> Enjoy the silly.

“Wot the fuck!” Eggsy sifted through his laundry pile a third time, hands still coming up empty.

“What now?” Roxy asked from his phone. He had her on speaker as he ran around the room, getting ready. They were to meet and have drinks with a few of her friends. She swore he needed to go on a date, or at least meet new people since his break up with Charlie.

The wanker had cheated on Eggsy with another bloke; one of the new tailors at the shop and since Harry caught them on camera, both were without a job. Served them right.

“I can’t find my fucking hot pants.” He had a particularly favorite pair. They were neon blue, sparkled nicely when the light hit them just right, and hugged his arse so that he could fit into the tight ass black denim he planned to wear.

“Did you forget them at the laundromat?” Eggsy had started taking his clothes there. The old as fuck washer and dryer that came with his shitty flat had crapped the bed not two weeks after he moved in. So the past four weeks Eggsy had been trucking his laundry to and from the neighborhood laundromat. It wasn’t a far walk, and he honestly didn’t mind; that was when it wasn’t raining.

Eggsy slammed a drawer shut, muttered something about wankers and stealing his damn pants. “This is the fifth pair! I’m starting to think someone has it in for my underwear.”

Roxy snorted through the phone. “You could al-”

“I am NOT taking them to the shop! As soon as Harry knows I don’t have a washer and dryer, he’ll insist on buying me one. Or swear he needs a new set and give me his and Merlin’s. Nope!”

Eggsy had taken an apprenticeship at Kingsman Tailors; the owner, Harry Hart, had taken Eggsy under his wing, as if he were a baby bird that still needed to be mouth fed and all. He loved Harry, if he were being honest, and his husband Merlin was a good bloke too. Eggsy felt right at home with them. But he had just scraped enough money to live in his too small flat, moving out of his mum’s. He loved his mum and sister, but fuck it felt good to call this shit hole his, and he wasn’t about to let anyone treat him like a charity case; not that Harry would see it that way.

He could feel Roxy’s eye roll through the phone. “Whatever, just grab a fucking pair of pants. Or go commando, I don’t care, and get your arse moving! I’ll be there in ten.” She disconnected before Eggsy could respond. He glared at the phone before his attention averted to the outfit he had laid out on the bed.

A nice crisp, navy blue button down with a laced, black on black waist coat which paired perfectly with the new black trainers he bought a few days ago with his bonus. Sure, Eggsy could have been a wee bit responsible with the money, but what was a hundred pounds for the limited edition Puma’s? Ain’t like he’d miss the money and the shoes were fucking worth it. Feeling irritated he couldn’t find his pants, Eggsy pawed through again and wasn’t satisfied with his findings.

“This is bloody ridiculous.” He grumbled, hands folded into fists on his hips. “Some arsehole is strutting their stuff in MY pants.”

JB barked beside him, head cocked curiously. “I could just let it all hang out.” Eggsy grinned when JB raised a paw, another woof. “Yeah. Guess that is a good idea.” He bent down to reward the pug in a belly rub and finished getting ready.

He was only five minutes later than expected.

\---

It was Tuesday, which meant wash day; he had figured out Tuesday’s weren’t as busy. Most people frequented during the weekends, and learned that the hard way when a fight broke out between two old birds over a dryer. Ever since then he cased the place to determine the best night, and never looked back.

Eggsy hummed to himself as he folded the second load. He had another twenty minutes on the last one and figured he’d kill some time puttering around the laundromat while he waited. It made no sense to head home, it would take him damn near that time to get back to his flat. Not that he’d care, honestly it was a gorgeous evening; he had even left his window open when he left.

Since it was a pet friendly place, Eggsy had JB harnessed and the pug was happily lying on his freshly dried dog bed. He kept a firm hold of the lead and wondered toward the cork-board. A bunch of people in the neighborhood looking for flatmates, some offered up babysitting services and even a few dog walkers. Eggsy had tossed the idea up here and there. Most days he had long hours, wanted to hone in his skills, absorb as much teaching Harry offered, and there were a few other tailor’s who had taught him a thing or two. And that meant JB was alone a lot, but Jamal was aces and stopped over.

Rox had even taken JB out a few times when she got off early. She completed her apprenticeship a year earlier, and so she didn’t eat, sleep, or breathe the shop like Eggsy did.

He scanned a bit further, nothing pressing or any services he was in the need for. One caught his eye, someone offered up their knitting skills for homemade items. Eggsy read the flyer. They’d make jumpers, cardigans, blankets, hats, gloves, mittens, etc. Anything and everything a person could make with their hands using two sticks, and they’d do it. He ripped off a tag, thought about getting a matching hat and jumper made for Daisy, and pocketed it; she started school in a few months.

Eggsy turned when the dryer buzzed but stopped short when a paper caught his eye. It wasn’t the headline that did it, though - If This Is Your Underwear, Please Contact Sebastian Graves followed by the man’s personal information - would be cause enough to make him stare. But that wasn’t it. It were the fifteen pairs of pants, laid out perfectly beneath a rather proud looking Siamese cat.

Again, not that interesting, except they were HIS. Every single last bloody pair printed on this white sheet of paper were Eggsy’s. Even the neon blue pair he had looked for a week ago. He gawked at it. It had to have been just put up there, it weren’t there last week - or so he fucking hoped not! There were an array of risque pairs on there, ones he had totally fucking forgotten he even owned. A lacy thong, that he had worn like twice in the last three months, among a few others that he swore he hadn’t even had on his body since the breakup with Charlie.

The wanker liked thongs on him and okay they were pretty fucking convenient when he had a tight ass pair of jeans on. But that was beside the point! They were on display, with a bloody feline looking as it’d hit the jackpot, or like a dragon with it’s hoard. All proud and unapologetic that his fucking pants were carefully laid out and posted for the world to see. Eggsy didn’t dare to look around, afraid someone would catch on they were his, and snatched the bloody flyer off the board. He didn’t bother folding it, just shoved it in his pocket, and kept his head down.

Eggsy didn’t even bother folding the remainder of his clothing, just piled them into the basket; his face hot with chagrin as he hefted it onto his hip and stormed out, JB worked hard to keep up.

“LOOK!” Eggsy pushed the paper into Roxy’s face. “Recognize any of those?”

She’s amused, among other things, as she took the flyer; deep brown eyes danced with delight.

“Some,” Roxy admitted. “So you think the thief is this Sebastian?”

“Who else would it be?” Eggsy angrily stuffed clean clothes into their proper drawers. “Blaming it on a damn cat. How the fuck would it even get them?”

“Maybe they accidentally folded and took your laundry? Thought it was theirs?” Roxy offered. “But, wait.” She sat up on his bed. “Eggsy, did you look at this address?”

“No.” He barely focused on the name. All he could see were his pants spread for the world to see, or at least a small portion of London. “Why?”

Roxy gasp behind him and giggled. “Because this person lives two doors down from you.” He spun around to see a hand clasped over her face, trying but failing to keep the laugh at bay.

“Wot?!” He ripped it from her grasp to read. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“That’s fucking funny.”

“It is not!” Eggsy crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into a rubbish bin.

“Are you going to get them back?”

“What? No? Are you crazy!” Eggsy’s voice had risen a few octaves. “Hey, look, sorry. You know that flyer you posted? Yeah, those are my pants.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s sounds fucking mental.”

Roxy rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She stood and gave his chest a shove. “But don’t come bitching to me when you don’t have your precious hot pants.”

“I won’t,” he argued.

She placed a kiss on his cheek before heading out. “I’ll leave you to your knickers crisis.”

He flipped the bird as she blew him a kiss and left.

\---

“I won’t come get you if you don’t get your shit together!” Roxy threatened through the phone.

Another planned outing and Eggsy was back to pacing his room. None of his current pants allowed him to squeeze his fat arse into the new pair of light blue denim, he planned to wear.

“But-”

“No buts. Seriously. Rub butter on your damn thighs, I don’t care. It’s not my fault you pick the tightest bloody jeans London has to offer.”

“They look great on my ass!”

“Except you don’t have your favorite pair of pants. Which you would have, if you just went to your neighbor and got them!”

Eggsy growled, irritated. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is this goddamn strop you’re throwing over fucking pants. Go get them, or sulk all night. Up to you.” And she hung up.

He stared at the phone for a moment, debated calling her back, but knew she would flat out leave him here if he wasn’t wearing those pants. Or at the very least his jeans.

“Right.” He fished the crumpled paper from the rubbish bin, did his best to flatten it, and stormed out of his flat to this Sebastian’s address; which what the fuck was literally two doors down like Rox said.

There was music muffled through the door. Eggsy squared his shoulders and gave three good raps against the faded red painted wood. It didn’t sound like the music lowered, perhaps it were too loud, so he gave another set of three; louder this time and with more force behind them. He was prepared, fist raised, to give another pound when the door flew open.

“Woah, easy there, aye?” A thick Scottish brogue cautioned. “Can I help you?”

Eggsy felt all of the heat bleed out of him as he was faced with the man. He was about Eggsy’s height, a beautiful thick head of dark, curly hair that looked lusciously soft; the need to run his fingers through was overwhelming. But that wasn’t the most attractive thing about him, his striking blue eyes that creased with an intrigued smile, which dimpled adorably in his cheeks when his plump, pink lips widened with a lopsided grin.

“Are you okay mate?”

“Uh, yeah!” Eggsy found his nerve again, once he stopped staring at this Scottish beauty. “I came here to tell you I can’t wear my bloody jeans without my pants!”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Eggsy facepalmed. “Fuck me,” he muttered.

“Maybe another time.” Stranger winked a perfect blue eye.

“This is a cock up. Look.” Eggsy wasn’t normally this daft, but he was pretty. “I found this flyer at the laundromat, and these are my pants.” He handed the wrinkled paper to him. “You’re Sebastian?”

“I am.” Sebastian took the offered sheet and grinned wickedly. “These are some impressive pants.”

“Oh for fucks sake! I honestly don’t care how you got them, really. Cat, dog, you, whatever. I just want them back.”

Sebastian lifted his gaze, eyes alight with interest. “It really was my cat, Nutter. He is a mad bastard and hasn’t settled in to being an indoor cat. He’s used to being on the farm and chasing mice, stealing things. Little fucking thief.”

“Wot the fuck kind of cat steals pants?” This is completely fucked, but hell if Eggsy can stop his curiosity. “My dog don’t even do that shit.”

“Come on.” Sebastian opened the door wider. “Well, ye coming or not?” Eggsy stepped into the flat with a frown and followed when Sebastian walked to the back, right into a room. “Here.” He pointed to a sleeping Siamese; the exact one that was in the photo.

“He gets out when I leave the window open. The bloody owner of these flats needs to invest in screens. I thought it was an accident at first.” Sebastian explained while he gathered a shoe box full of Eggsy’s pants. “I use the laundromat myself, figured they were left in a dryer and mixed with mine. Would make a fuck ton more sense than this bugger taking them.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t until Nutter crawled through the window with a skimpy ass pair of thongs, which are fucking sexy by the way.” Sebastian winked again; Eggsy felt heat rise to his cheeks. “That’s when I put the pieces together. And now I have ten pairs of yer very expensive, I might add, pants.”

“Thanks.” Eggsy took the box, all of a sudden interested in his undergarments. “You know…for not tossing them.” He shrugged.

“I’ll admit I was curious who they belonged to, above all else.”

Eggsy met his gaze; blue eyes scorched with desire. “Well now you know.”

“Now I know,” Sebastian agreed. “Since you came in all hot like that, which are the ones ye are so bent about?” Eggsy fished through and found the sparkle, blue pants. “Aye.” Sebastian nodded appreciatively.

“Was about to head to the pub with some mates. You could join?”

Sebastian’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “My cat takes yer pants, and you wanna get a drink?”

Eggsy shrugged, nonchalantly. “Sure. Figure buy the man who’s kept my favorite hot pants safe, for God knows how long, a pint?”

“Alright,” Sebastian accepted easily.

He felt Sebastian follow him to the door. Eggsy turned, just before Sebastian closed the door and said, “Oh. And I gathered since you know what my pants look like, it is only fair I try to find out what yours look like.” Eggsy winked and sauntered to his flat before he lost his nerve.

And later that night, Eggsy found out Sebastian doesn’t wear pants at all. Something about wearing kilts and the air on his bits a free thing. Eggsy couldn’t wait to see him in a kilt.


End file.
